


I am the Dragon

by 1000lux



Series: A Crown for a Beggar [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bitching, Dragons, M/M, Not so diplomatic's, Qarth, Season 2, The Pureborn (ASoIaF), The Thirteen (ASoIaF), The house of the undying, Viserys' past, lots of Drogo's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1901496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viserys and Drogo finally reach Qarth. Now all they can hope is that the undying will be able to help Danaerys. And while they are already there, they might as well make some new friends, or enemies for that matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am the Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I own neither rights to the books or to do TV series.
> 
> WARNING: There's going to be a lot of violence and other disturbing Topics in this Story.
> 
> Took me really long. To my defense, I've been parallelly working on the other parts of the Story, which by now are, the first two included, six parts and probably more to come.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read, left kudos or comments! I love you all and I hope you'll like this part.

Finally they have reached Qarth. Jorah goes to negotiate for them being received. Thirteen men under heavy guard emerge. Viserys seems to be satisfied by the fact that they consider his army to be such a threat. He steps forward, while Drogo stays behind, even though it's technically his army.

"I assume you know who I am," Viserys starts his speech.

"Indeed, Viserys Targaryen. And we see you've brought with you a Dothraki army, how charming. What do you intend to do with it?"

"That depends on your answer to my request."

Drogo thinks that's a highly ambitious plan, considering that to his knowledge, Qarth's walls have never been breached.

"Even though we're only merchants, the Thirteen have been protecting the Greatest City That Ever Was And Will Be successfully since it's foundation."

The shift in Viserys' face after the words 'merchants' is hard to miss. Since Viserys considers himself to stand above everyone anyway, it makes Drogo wonder why he bothers so much with titles.

"The Greatest City That Ever Was And Will Be never had me in front of it's gates."

To Drogo's surprise the fat man standing in front of them actually chuckles at that.

"Now, what's your desire then?" He is still smiling. "Maybe we can avoid the tedious bloodshed."

"Give us entrance!"

Of course it's not a question. Though, Drogo has to admit, he wouldn't have asked either.

"That can be arranged, but we'd see the dragons first."

"Agreed." Viserys let's out a high whistle tone and moments later the three winged beasts shoot down from the sky, coming to a halt on his head and shoulders, their tails wrapping around his arms and throat as if they belong there. What Viserys still likes the most in the world, Drogo realizes, is to brag. Not a very charming trait, but then most of Viserys' character traits aren't.

"Welcome to Qarth."

They are allowed to enter with a few of their men, while the rest of the khalasar has to camp outside. They'd be crazy to let a Dothraki khalasar roam the streets of 'the greatest city that ever was and will be'. And so the Master of Spices tells them, smiling brightly.

****

One of the Thirteen, the richest man in Qarth, or so he tells them, offers his hospitality to them, as it seems not scared of housing a few savages. Though Drogo is not fool enough to think that it's done by pure kindness of soul.

Viserys visibly enjoys 'the benefits of civilisation' as he calls it. Drogo could swear he hasn't seen him for hours before he emerges from the baths. At least he took his sister and his nephew with him.

"If she drowns, I'll have you drowned in horse piss," he told the bath house slaves amiably.

»How about you have a bath too?« Viserys says, sniffing, before shutting the door in Drogo's face.

****

Viserys is still sprawled out on the bed, having his breakfast there, or more precisely, playing with it. It's been a week and the Undying still haven't answered Viserys' call.

"Uhh..." he groans annoyed, "I'm bored. Aren't you bored?"

»Not particularly,« Drogo wonders if they should be seen in the same room at this hour of the day, but since it's his bed, Viserys is currently inhabiting, he considers he has more right to be here than him. »But I'm not exactly thrilled either.«

»Will those fucking Undead bastards answer anytime before Joffrey Baratheon is ready to see his grandchildren?«

»Who the fuck is Joffrey Baratheon?«

Viserys gives him an exasperated look, cocked eyebrow, fork with a big piece of pineapple in one hand, wearing nothing but the sheets (to some extend). It's hard to take him serious that way, or stay focused.

»Doesn't matter. Someone we'll kill once we get to Westeros.«

»Oh, one of those.«

»Let's go to town. Buy some pretty, useless stuff.«

»I don't think we can find something quite like you again.«

»You know, Dany was wrong when she told me you were boring.« Viserys takes a bite of his pineapple, then he breaks down laughing, »Don't make such a face! I was joking.«

****

They hit the city half an hour later. Drogo still wonders what exactly they are going to pay with. He's more used to killing everyone and just taking what he wants. And it's not like they brought tons of gold with them anyway. His worries were for naught as it turns out. Viserys is graciously receiving gifts. He just walks up to the stands of the merchants, looking at their products with a wrinkled nose, commenting on the low quality. Sometimes he just has arrived there and he already finds himself with a drink in his hand and the seller at his back and call. Drogo is widely ignored, with everyone giving him a wide berth. And he's not even trying to look intimidating.

When one of the slaves is bold enough to turn to him to hand him Viserys' newest possessions, he just gives him a warning look and the boy nearly drops everything.

Viserys turns to shop-keeper, "Excuse my savage, he's not used to customs here."

Drogo smiles at the shop-keeper, then at Viserys, »I'm going to strangle you.«

»That's what I'm talking about.«

 

When they leave Drogo has to admit that he's impressed by the assortment of tunics, brocade, silk, braceletts and rings.

»You'd cheat a man out of his soul. I never knew you could even be charming.«

»It's free advertisment if I'm wearing it.« Viserys retorts.

»I can't decide whether to be impressed or offended by so much insolence.«

»Childsplay.« Viserys tells Drogo, proudly, throwing his hair back.

****

Xaro Xhoan Daxos' house offers them everything Viserys has lacked during the dire times in the desert. And Viserys is pretty sure he'll never again move past eyesight from any city ever again. Daxos observes his and Drogo's sleeping in the same room, but doesn't comment on it. Viserys can tell that man has got enough spies and secret passageways in his house to know exactly what they are doing in said room.

****

"I would talk to the Pureborn." Viserys announces during breakfast. They came here for the purpose of getting his sister help, but while the Undying haven't answered his call, he's decided not to spent his time idly. Not that his and Drogo's times are exactly idle.

"For what purpose?" Daxos asks, surprised.

"I need men and I need a fleet. I see this city can provide me with both."

"I shall give them your message." Daxos as always is the picture of politeness.

****

Again. Yet another city. Yet another house. And he's a solicitant again. Begging for scrapes of the table (which he did literally at times). But he has an army now. If he's honest to himself, it's his sister's army. And the fine gentlemen of the city taught him very fast, that an army that stays in front of the gates is worth very little.

****

As it turns out they don't have any more manners than the Undying. After sitting idly for a few days, Viserys had decides to take up his cause with the Thirteen, despite their bad start. And indeed, the Master of Spices is willing to receive them. Whatever that means given previous experience.

Viserys is pacing up and down the room.

»Sit the fuck down, will ya?« They have taken upon talking in Dothraki in here, since the walls have ears.

»Why is he not here yet?!«

Drogo shrugs unconcerned. Really, Viserys' cause is nothing to him. He has a khalasar. He has nothing to prove here. Even though, he promised to Daenerys that he would give her the Seven Kingdoms. Or more precisely he's going to give them to Viserys. And maybe, yes, he's a little invested in this too.

»Do you know what he's doing?! He's letting ME wait! No one let's me wait!!!«

»Relax.« Drogo says, talking to himself as much as Viserys. Making Viserys turn it down feels as unpromising a task, as trying to calm down his son, when he wakes up crying at night.

»Relax?! RELAX?!! I'm going to have him flogged publicly once I'm king!«

Whenever day that might be.

This moment the Master of Spices chooses to make his appearance.

"Ah, you've been waiting. I'm terribly sorry. What? No one offered you food or something to drink? I'll have the servants flogged."

"Well, you know what they say, a servant is only as good as his master."

The sad thing is, that he isn't even surprised any longer, when Viserys does things like this. At least it is amusing, if counter-active. The Master of Spices seems at a loss of words for a moment, probably having expected any answer other than this, coming from a solicitant. But then, Viserys considers this to be only his right.

Viserys never loses his stride a second and picks up the conversation again.

"Now, I believe you said something about a flogging?"

 

"You want my ships? Dear boy..."

"Prince."

He loses his train of thoughts for a moment, "Listen..."

"Stop right there! I don't want to hear your excuses about why you can't give me your ships. I'm going to have my ships and if I don't get them from you, I will get them from someone else."

"Then by all means, get them from someone else!"

"You don't want that to happen."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Are you scared?"

****

»That went well.« Drogo states matter-of-factly, once they emerge from the residence of The Master of Spices.

»Fuck you.«

»What exactly makes you want to fuck up so badly every time?«

"I don't know about you, but I'm perfectly fine with myself. I know what I deserve. And I know that the power to take it, gives me every right to do so."

»I don't pretend to be fluent in it myself, but ever heard about something called diplomacy?«

"I only know that weakness never earned anyone respect. Would it have earned me your respect if I had begged nicely for an army?"

»But I don't respect you.«

»Yes, you do.«

And Drogo knows he lost this argument when he started it.

They walk on in peace and silence for a while.

»I never knew, you even know irony.« Viserys says, pensively.

»I learned it from your example.« Drogo smiles at him.

****

»I can't sleep.« 

Drogo thought he could just ignore him, if he feigned sleep. But then the mattress dips when Viserys gets on it crawling over to him.

»You're drunk.« Drogo assesses.

»Just like the crown to the Seven Kingdoms that is my godsgiven right.« Viserys tells him cheerfully. »Anyway, what else would I do in this shithole?«

»Only a few days ago it was the kingdom come.« Drogo remarks, drily. He is about to sit up and tell Viserys to leave. Unpredictable things happen when Viserys is drunk.

But Viserys' tongue is already trailing his earlobe and he can only lean back into the mattress and groan.

»I think, I'm staying.« Viserys concludes, drily, upon retriving his tongue, before he breaks into a giggle.

Drogo grabs him by the hips, settling him sitting on top of him. Enough childsplay. 

Viserys reaches behind himself, one hand wandering down Drogo's breeches to a specific place, hand only teasing, though.

»Are we going to fuck, or what?« Drogo's voice is rough already and he chastises himself for his lack of self-control.

»I certainly do hope so.«

Viserys hands move over him. Leaving behind skin both tingling and under current.

"Tell me what you want. What do you want me to do?" The smile is devilish.

He grips harder. Drogo bucks under him. Viserys lets out a pleased laugh.

Every single motion of Viserys is leisurely, taking his time. He likes to play games, that much was clear from the beginning. His hair, falling freely, tickles as his lips move down over Drogo's stomach. Drogo lets out a groan, he thinks he hears Viserys chuckle. He's had enough of this. His hand finds solid grip in Viserys' hair and pushes his head down to where it belongs. He earns a bite for that.

Drogo is past the point of forming his want into actual words. All he wants is to bury himself in Viserys, who's nothing but ghosting touches across his body, that are not nearly enough. If he had to describe Viserys during sex, the word would probably be cruel. He's like a cat toying with it's prey. And all the time so fucking beautiful. So fucking, maddeningly desirable. A dirty, beautiful, fiendish, unsufferable, toxic whore, that has become a habit he can't quit.

"Tell me," his voice is sweet, seductive, bed-room voice. "who am I?" Viserys is rubbing over Drogo's erection. "I'm your what?" He lowers himself a little bit more. Drogo finds his voice coming out as more of a whimper. And he sees the satisfaction on Viserys' face.

»Fuck,« Drogo utters in frustration.

"Wrong answer," Viserys scolds, "I'm your king."

Drogo growls, but contempleting the worth of his pride is as far beyond him, as getting up and leaving the room.

»You're my king.« Shit. Oh. Shit. Fuck. Oh God. Worth it. Every second of it.

Viserys hisses, as he settles on Drogo's cock. He bites his lip and looks at Drogo like he's some piece of pastry.

Drogo grabs Viserys hips, flipping him on his back. Viserys buries his hands in Drogo's hair, moving at his pace.

Viserys is full of contradictions, on one hand he likes to play him to every tune in the book, on the other hand he likes to be overpowered by him.

»Like what you see?« Viserys asks, looking up at Drogo, his back arching under Drogo's ministrations.

Did I ever not? 

 

Drogo is pressing Viserys into the mattress, one hand settled on the small of his back, one hand on his hip, keeping him in place. Viserys is pushing against him, moaning obsceneties, not even trying to keep his voice down.

Drogo leans down, biting into the perfect, white skin of Viserys' shoulder blade. He lifts him back on top of himself.

"Stop playing, savage, and get me off!" Viserys' voice is husky, pupils dilated, tone still the raunchy imitation of his usual commanding voice.

"Shut up while I fuck you, minx," Drogo growls into Viserys' hair, smiling.

Drogo is wondering how Viserys keeps up with him, given his treacherously lithe looking body.

To Viserys sex had always been more like masturbation with a hand that isn't his own. He didn't give a shit if the girl or the guy he was fucking with got off or not. It was about him having fun. That doesn't mean he's not good at what he does, when he actually wants to be. He looks down at his savage coming undone.

 

Drogo falls into the cushions, trying to catch his breath. Being with Viserys is sure different. Different than anything he's ever had. Once you're past the megalomania, you realise that there's an...No, who is he kidding, you never get past the megalomania. Viserys drops onto the sheets beside him, eyes gleaming, complacent. Drogo angles for a hand-full of those silver-blond strands.

»If you're giving me a list of complaints now. This will be the last time we did this.« Drogo warns.

»That's what you say everytime.« Viserys laughs.

****

»You know I'm not actually dumb? Just because I can't talk in your language the way I do in mine. I wrote poetry for Dany in Dothraki.« Viserys starts coughing, putting his goblet back on the table with shaky hands.

"You did what?!"

****

The Pureborn manage to look just as arrogant and self-centered as Viserys. Drogo is impressed. They acknowledge each other with an infinitesimal nod.

"What did you come for, son of the house Targaryen, brother of the Mother of Dragons?"

"I want ships and men." Viserys tilts his chin up, looking every inch the brat prince.

Maybe they're going to be impressed by bluntness, Drogo thinks.

"What are you going to give us in return?"

"You are going to be sufficently paid once I aquire my crown."

They laugh. They really laugh. Drogo's hand goes to his sword, getting ready to shield a scratching and screaming Viserys from the guards of the Pureborn.

"No, indeed," their speaker slowly recovers from laughing, "of course your going to pay us once you have your crown. But we'd rather have something palpable up front."

"Oh, are you petty fishmongers, haggling for the best price, taking money up front? And there I thought I was dealing with the finest of Qarth." Viserys drawls.

And indignant huff goes through the ranks of the Pureborn.

"We won't be insulted in our own house! Our own city!"

"Oh, I believe I'm being the one insulted here," Viserys continues, "But serve yourself. If you're not interested I'll go to the Thirteen."

Viserys stalks out, without another word and Drogo can't quite believe he won't be forced to use his sword until they've returned to Daxos' mansion.

****

Drogo is man enough to admit it. He likes his times better with Viserys around than without. He's amusing. Well, he remembers times Viserys was exactly the same and he didn't consider his behavior amusing. What kind of connection is it they have? By fate? By necessity? By Daenerys?

****

Viserys knows the look Daxos gives him, seen it often enough. He doesn't feel like naming his price quite yet, though. It's disgusting. He hates being looked at as meat. Meat which might wear a crown once, or meat that has nice legs and an ass, but meat all the same. He feigns obliviousness to his avances.

****

»Can you tell me why she's the Mother of Dragons? Because they hedged while she was lying around there? I'm the one they're flying around all day, but of course, she's the Mother of Dragons!« Viserys accompanies his words, with elaborate gestures.

»Are you honestly jealous of her? Under this condition?« Drogo asks disbelieving. »Did it ever occur to you, that people like your sister better, because you just try so hard for people to dislike you? You held a sword to the belly of your pregnant sister, once.«

Viserys seems to seriously contemplate that.

»I was really drunk that time.« He concedes. »I was surprised you didn't try to kill me again, since then.«

»I tried. I failed. It's the will of the gods.«

»That easy?«

»That easy.«

It's moments like this, that Viserys realizes he's put much more on stake in this than Drogo. Viserys' never been in love, only in love with power, if you want. He's not in love either. It's only spurned pride, to think that this savage might dare to refuse him. He'd never tell, that's for sure. He'll use Drogo until he's served his time.

****

"The Undying are willing to receive you now."

They've come to Daxos' house. Or more precisely, he. It's only one of them, Pyat Pree by name. The strange man smiles at Viserys in a way that makes his skin crawl.

"Ahh, it is you indeed, " He shows a row of teeth, "King Crowned by Fire."

Viserys shudders. How does this guy know that story? Or is it just some weird simile? 

"You are here, for your sisters sake." It's not a question and he doesn't stop to wait for an answer. "We can restore her to health. We would be much obliged to serve the Mother of Dragons and of course you. We will call upon you to visit us in the House of the Undying. Bring your sister and she shall be as she was."

Viserys doesn't particularly look forward to that, but he has no other choice.

"What will it cost me?" He doubts that the Undying will be contented by flattery alone, its not just bread he's asking for, here.

"Nothing you wouldn't be able to pay. Indeed, you will be our honored guest and as such we will treat you."

Viserys feels this doesn't bode well. An outrageous price would have reassured him much more. The dragons seem to sense his discomfort, as say come flying into the room settling nestled in his hair and on his shoulders.

"They are indeed magnificent, are they not?" The Undying exclaims with delight.

****

"Oh, Dany. Shit, I don't know what you've gotten me into, right here. If you ever come back from this, you'll owe me big time."

He looks down at his unconscious sister, and despite him really wanting her to get better, he realizes that he really doesn't like to share. There are certain insights about his own person he'd rather done without.

"I'm more beautiful than you, it will be my crown, they are my dragons, and now I've also taken your man. I'm better. I win." It hits him then, what he's just said, "Shit! I really hope you didn't hear this." He self-consciously touches her hand, "I love you. You know that, right?" He can care. Despite everything. And if he couldn't love her, there's naught in this world he could.

Daxos comes in, while he still sits at her bedside.

"The Thirteen would speak to you again."

Well, the day wasn't just bad enough yet. Viserys steels himself for more mockery and disdain. He can do it. He's done it all his life. But one day he'll kill them. He kill them all. All those faces deformed by laughter and greed. Faces consisting solely of sneers. He remembers all of them. Be it a house to sleep, something to eat, or a save passage. They would look at him with sneers, talk at him through sneers.

 

"Welcome, Viserys Targaryen." 

Old and fat men like the Master of Spices, just as he's imagined them. Daxos presents Viserys need to them, speaking in his favor.

"We would like to apologize for the rude behaviour of our brother. Indeed we would be pleased to assist you, but you see we are a council and we have to decide yet whether we can risk to aid you. Until then you shall stay guest at Xaro Xhoan Daxos' house."

****

»They want the dragons.« Drogo tells him at night.

»Of course they do. Just like the Undying. Why do you think they let us in, in the first place.«

»I don't think they plan on us leaving here alive, even without the dragons.«

»Most probably, what do you think, can your khalasar take the city?«

»If we get them in.«

»Good enough.«

****

Driven. It's the one word Drogo associates with Viserys. Below the arrogance and the seemingly unfaltering belief in his own success, he's driven. Like a dog having put his teeth in a boar unwilling and unable to let go.  
Set on one goal and one goal alone.

****

"The Thirteen are a bunch of stupid old men, they don't see the potential in this alliance," Daxos tells him, "I do, though. And I have a proposal of my own, for you to consider. I admire you greatly, as I'm sure I've expressed unequivocally, so far. If you'd return my affection, we could achieve great things together. I can give you an army. I can give you ships. I can give you Qarth if you say so."

Flattering enough, yet Viserys isn't quite that desperate, not yet. And maybe it's also because the utterly useless and annoying savage, who he hopes will be jealous if he tells him later. Which isn't exactly mature of Viserys to think, either.

"Our respect for each other," Viserys puts stress on the word 'respect', "Is mutual, but I have to politely decline any proposition further than that."

"I see. Well, that's just too unfortunate. I hope we will find each others company benefiting enough, nevertheless."

Or more candidly: Go ahead boy, it's your funeral, Viserys thinks.

****

"The house of the Undying awaits you."

It's one of Pyat Pree's doubles that tells them.

Drogo gets up immediately.

"Not you, son of blood and sand."

Viserys picks up Dany, carrying her outside. He's not stupid enough to bring his dragons with him.

 

The house of the Undying doesn't look inviting at all. More like a huge tomb. And maybe that's just what it is. He doesn't like it at all, letting them take her with them. But what other choice has he? Again he is the beggar asking for things he has no means to pay for.

 

It feels like hours until they return to him, after doing the gods know what.

"We've done all we could."

Viserys looks down at her still liveless, unmoving form.

"That doesn't seem to have been pretty fucking much!"

"We have one more way of trying. If you would bring the dragons with you the next time."

Viserys agrees to it only to get out of there again. The hell, he'll set another foot in there ever again.

****

»They can't help us! Neither of them!« Viserys fumes. »None of those fucking cowards and cut-throats! I'll have what's mine though. We will take this city of degenerate, arrogant fucks!«

Drogo can't help laughing at Viserys describing others as just that. He tries to hide it though.

»You think I'm funny?«

»But in a very charming way.«

Whatever it is Viserys sees in his eyes, calms him down again. Whatever it was, though, it scares Drogo more than he can tell. Even more, now that he knows Dany might never wake up again. It scares him that he can laugh at a time like this. But he's gotten so used to it. It's been so many months. And it would be a lie to say he put very much trust in those mages, since the witch. His wife. His beloved. She will never come back to him. Not until the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, he hears the voice in the back of his head. And look what he's stuck with instead of her. He looks at Viserys staring moodily at nothing. It's starting to become real, more than a state of transition. Maybe Viserys deserves to have someone who acknowledges the good in him. Maybe he's just fucked up in the head from whatever spell Viserys' put on him.

»You will leave the city and get your men in here and we'll see if you're really the greatest warrior that's ever been.«

»How do you plan for me to get through the walls of Qarth?«

»Surprise me.«

 

They leave the house under the excuse of going to the market, to buy Qarthian clothes for Viserys.

»How about the seaway? Get them in by ship» Viserys looks at Drogo expectantly, »Yes, I know, you don't like the sea that much, but get over it. There're lots of boats. Just steal one.«

»By all means, why don't you get them over the sea piggy-back?«

****

When Viserys returns by himself he finds the house in a state mayhem. All of the Dothraki men they took with them inside are slain. Even the few women. A bloody mess spread through house and garden. But that's not all. And all of Daxos' servants are still alive. Daxos finds him while he's busy trying to shake what happened out of the survivors. Viserys spins around.

"Where are my dragons?! WHERE is my SISTER?!! WHERE IS MY HEIR?!!!!"

Daxos' face loses the superficial charm it used to adorn so far.

"Yes, where indeed, my prince." He smiles like the cat that got the cream, "Seems you will have to rely on my hospitality for a little longer."

His hand grabs Viserys' arm before he's able to pull away.

 

Daxos gets off the bed stretching lazily. "Now, all I have to do is find that savage of yours."

Viserys doesn't say a thing, while inwardly he's already peeling the skin of Daxos with a blunt knife.

****

Drogo watches them throw the corpses of his men into the sea. All the while watching for a white-blond shock of hair that doesn't come. And they have Dany and his son too. Fuck! He hasn't expected this. He expected deceit. But this? They will all die. At his hand. Screaming. He'll make sure Viserys can take a bath in their blood, once he's given him this city. He has to calm down. Rage is no reliable advisor. And rage comes to him far too easily.

Once he's calmed himself a little, thinking about this situation and all it's factors, a thought occurs to him. It is possible that Viserys made a deal with them, planned all this. Whatever they've promised him, whatever he's promised them. No. He is well aware Viserys isn't above killing innocents for his gain, capable of treachery and deceit and he wouldn't recommend anyone to trust him even half as far as they can throw him. But he also knows that despite everything, he's become without either of them trying, someone Viserys cares about. It's all gut instinct, no brain. But Drogo's made the most important decisions in his life by gut instinct.

Whatever he's going to do, he has to do it quickly, before they decide they can do without his family as well. There's no way to get his men into town quickly at all. And right now, he has enough trouble staying alive himself. The city is swarming with guards. Drogo has to be no genius to know who they're looking for.

There's someone else though, who wants Viserys just as much as him.

 

"I think it's in your best interest, if the Dragon Prince gets the chance to visit you again."

"Indeed it's quite unfortunate that he's such hindered to come to us. Because we know he will want to come here at once, as soon as he's able to. It is your luck, we had an agreement with the Prince of Qarth ourselves, but he's failed to comply to it."

****

It starts with screams, which get closer with the second. First in alarm then with panic, until it's silent again. As silent as it was when Viserys returned to the mansion. He can smell the iron in the air, even through the closed doors. He sits back and just waits. Then the bloodied Dothraki warrior stands in the room Viserys' is now confined to.

"Now I'm indeed surprised." Viserys says, with nearly no hint of mockery.

"Where are Dany and Raego?"  
"Where is Daxos?" They ask at the same time.

"I don't know. Daxos knows, where is he?" Viserys repeats.

"He fled to the rest of the Thirteen."

"My dragons are gone too. How did you get inside the city?"

"The Undying helped me."

"Why would they do that?"

"They said he didn't comply to the terms of an arrangement they had. Said you would come to them yourself, if you could."

While Viserys contemplates that, Drogo becomes aware of the half-dressed state Viserys is in, eyes wandering from the dissheveled hair over a bruise forming at his jaw. They come to rest on the bruises decorating Viserys' forearms.

»Did he touch you?« Drogo's voice is rough, as he falls back into his native tongue.

The implication is there. Viserys knows it for what it is. Though, the anger in Drogo's voice, does staunch part of the allconsuming rage that has been eating Viserys from the inside. Not enough though. Not nearly enough.

»Why would you care?« Viserys snaps, before anger makes him say more than he intended to, »It happened to me for years, at the houses of our noble hosts. Never my sister, she needed to be a virgin, to marry her off. But me?« Viserys shakes his head bitterly. »Being the Dragon Prince means shit, unless you have an army to back it up!«

»Does Dany know?«

»Why would I have told her? What could she have done?«

Drogo is speechless. This explains a lot about Viserys' behavior in general. If he'd known...Damn, if Dany had known, it would have never gotten to the point...they would have been a lot more lenient with his antics.

Drogo's face has gotten darker with every word Viserys said. Viserys bites his lip, Drogo is the last person he wanted to share this with. But he is also the only person he ever did. He doubts he'll get much sympathy, given the Dothraki treatment of prisoners. Sure, it's shameful, that's why he's never told anyone. He tries to calm himself again, by thinking of rusty nails pushing into flesh and skin peeling off under boiling water. They will all pay. They will all pay.

Suddenly Drogo roughly pulls him forward by his neck and places a kiss on the top of his head.

»We find Danaerys and then I will kill him. And after that every single one of the others.«

Viserys is stunned. He remembers the assassin from the Seven Kingdoms and how Drogo had vowed to Dany that he would pillage their lands and kill every single one of her enemies. He didn't expect that reaction.

Suddenly Drogo moves past him with a growl. »What's he doing here?!« Drogo's at Jorah's throat the second he sees him.

»Leave him alone!« Viserys jumps between them, »He was a prisoner just like me!«

»All of my men are dead and he's alive?! Use your brain Viserys!«

»Unlike you, I'm already doing just that!«

Drogo still doesn't let go, even tightening his grip.

"Dammit! He had nothing to do with it!" Viserys pushes against Drogo's chest without much effect.

Drogo just pushes him to the side with one hand, with so much ease that Viserys is almost embarassed.

»Let me deal with this, Viserys. You're not thinking clearly right now. Since when did you start caring about other people anyway?«

»That's right! I don't! So, how is my judgement affected?!« Viserys tries to pull Drogo's hand away from Jorah's throat, but gives up eventually. It's more likely that he'll hurt his hand, before he actually succeeds.

»Since when do hold this guy so close to your heart, anyway?« Drogo scoffs.

»Oh, come on, you stupid mule! This is not about liking, he just didn't do anything!«

It occurs to Viserys then.

"It's the Undying!"

»What?«

"They have Dany and Rhaego and they have my dragons! Or at least either of them. Otherwise there's no motivation for me to go there!"

Drogo's hand slips from Jorah's throat at once, letting him fall to the ground, choking and coughing.

»Let's go then.«

****

"The Keeper of Dragons, Brother of the Mother of Dragons, King of Fire, Sand and What Lies Between, may enter, but you Father of the Stallion that Will Mount the World, Lover of the Dragon that is Her and the Dragon that is Him, you must not enter here."

»No way, I'm letting you go in there yourself!«

»It's not like we're given a choice here. If I'm not back by nightfall, you may ransack this godsbedamned place to your liking.«

Viserys turns back to what he expects to be another double of Pyat Pree.

"Lead the way, warlock."

****

Once he's inside the doors swing shut by themselves. Drogo's voice is just cut off, the walls being too thick to penetrate. When he turns around Pree is gone and he's alone in a maze of identical looking stone. He starts walking ahead, sooner or later he's bound to get somewhere. It's not fear he feels. He's not scared of magic. He is just able to assess it's potential danger and that is a very high one. But he's not superstitious. Magic is a tool, a weapon like everything else. And the warlocks in here are nothing more than that. Tools he will use and discard at his pleasure. They think they can keep him and his dragons. But he's not finished by far and no one is going to keep him from his path.

****

He sees them, his fist contracting just like his heart. Drogo and his sister, united again, the little Rhaego with them. His sister is glowing with love and beauty and he feels the urge to pull her hair.

Drogo looks up at him.

"That's what could happen. If you continue. But it could be different."

Daenerys vanishes out of the scene. Drogo holds his hand out towards Viserys.

"Come. Be with me. I am yours as you are mine." The smile on his face, though seldom seen, looks real enough, »My moon and stars.«

»My moon and stars.« Viserys repeats, voice dull. I don't have to have you in a dream. I will have the real you or I will not have you at all.  
"Is that all you got, warlock? Excellently executed, though."

****

He can hear his dragons now. They're screaming for him. It could be an illusion, though, he reminds himself. Who knows what these undead might spin out of their magic. Suddenly cold touches his face. It's cold like it's surely never been in this city. He looks up and snow is falling down through the ceiling. He walks deeper into the room, no it's a hall. It takes some time but he remembers. He remembers one of his earliest memories. It's the Red Keep. It's empty. Deserted. Nothing like the days when his family still lived in there. But nothing like the last, worst day either. When blood splattered the walls and he remembered only terror, his nurse telling him to run, and trying not to let go of his sister's hand. There it is. His destination. His right. His reason. The Iron Throne. Empty. Deserted. Covered in snow. He walks up to it. Slowly, as if it might bolt. It would be good to finally rest. Rest where he's supposed to be. Him on the throne. The dragons having returned. The house of Targaryen restored. But there is no house of Targaryen without his sister and his heir and without his dragons.  
"What am I to make of this?" He asks into the empty air, mockingly, "A throne without a kingdom is just a chair." he continues, confident that his words are going to be heard.

****

He makes his way out into the next room, where the sounds of his dragons seem to be even louder. It's full of gold. Rings, necklaces, braceletts, caskets, figurines and crowns. Dozens of crowns in different shapes and sizes, embroidered, set with gemstones. They are piling up to the ceiling of the room, leaving but a small path in the midst leading through it. Even the floor is laid out with gold.  
As he walks on the room is getting hotter. The piles are starting to shake, coins and and rings rolling down to the floor. The piles seem almost alive. Some caskets are descending into the depths of the mountains of jewelry, while some crowns are rolling down towards the ground. And suddenly it's like his feet are stuck to the ground.  
When he looks down he sees that the gold is slowly melting, becoming a sticky mass covering the floor. Beside him the crowns and jewelries are starting to lose their shapes, sticking to each other like honey. He looks behind him and he can't even make out the door, through the golden pulp running from the walls. He looks ahead and he can't yet see the other side of the room, while the gold keeps melting like snow.  
He starts running as fast as that's possible with the state of the floor. Dripping like juice from an overripe fruit the golden mass drips onto the floor. And then it starts to crawl up his body.  
First his ankles. Then his knees. This can't happen, he tells himself. It's not possible for such amounts of gold to melt that fast. Unless...Who knows what's possible with magic? 

No! No. No. They want him alive. He's no use to them dead. 

The gold is reaching up to his hips by now, tearing and pulling at his limbs greedily. When he tries to move on, his hands get only stuck tighter. Soon the golden mountains on either side of him are going to collapse completely. And this whole room will be nothing but a sea of gold. 

How do they know? They knew before, they know now. 

Viserys get's the claustrophobic feeling that they are inside his head, even right now. The gold is dripping down on his head, running down his face, feeling all-encompassing. 

This is not real.  
This is not real.  
This is not real. 

Resolved not to be conquered by his fears Viserys let's his legs finally give way and sinks under the golden surface. Gold enters his nose and mouth. His back hits the floor. And the room is empty again. 

Motherfucking hell.  
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He can still taste the metall on his tongue. He gets on his feet again, looking at the ceiling. He is very displeased now. And someone's going to pay.

"You wanna play, warlock?! Alright, let's fucking play!"

****

"You've mastered our tests." Pyat Pree greets him, looking as gaunt as ever. "Now, come in. You have reached your destination.

Viserys walks into the room and finds not only his dragons there but also his sister and nephew.

"Return them to me at once. I won't ask twice." Viserys states.

"We would have you and the Mother of Dragons stay here. With your children."

"I don't think so." He walks over to the block of stone, his dragons are chained to. The moment he touches it, shackles come out and fasten around his wrists.

"Oh, but you will, King of Nothing and All You Choose, Liegelord of What Has Died and Will Be Renewed."

"You think you can come into my house, slay my men and take my family and I would just let you do it?! You think you can shackle me, like a common slave?!" Viserys makes a step forwards, not yet aware of the metal of his chains slowly melting off his wrists,  
"I AM the Dragon! And you will kneel before me or you will burn!"

The shock on their faces is almost the same, as one of Viserys' hands rips free from it's confinement. Then the dragons start spitting fire. And soon everything's ablaze, including Pyat Pree and every double he could possibly have.

As he stands there screaming in agony and terror, burning like his own funeral pyre, Viserys walks up to him and pushes him onto his knees.

"I told you, you would kneel." He says before picking up Rhaego and Daenerys. His dragons settle around his shoulders keening with joy.

****

They are waiting. His men are slowly growing restless. It hasn't been that long since Viserys went inside. Hardly half an hour. But his men are scared by the place. They feel old magic and death that's housed in these walls. Drogo sees the flames first, which erupt from the top story of the house. But the door still won't budge. Fire is good he tells himself. Fire can hurt neither of them. The only question is: Can it hurt the Undying? 

Finally, after what feels like hours, the door is pushed open again. Viserys looks positively victorious and deeply exhausted.

"Is she alright?" He asks motioning to Dany.

"Not worse than before."

Viserys turns to his dragons.

"Burn the whole fucking place down!"

And they obey with ecstasy, turning the House of the Undying into a torch that will be seen all over the city.

It's scary what such little creatures can do. Viserys has to smile when he imagines, what they will be able to do when they are grown.

Now it is time to pay a visit to Daxos and the rest of the Thirteen.

"Let's go and kill a swine." 

****

The Greatest City That Ever Was And Will Be has very little to offer in terms of combat strength once you're actually inside her walls, as it turns out. That's what happens when none of your soldiers has been in a real battle for years.

»Tell your men not to destroy my property. These palaces are delightful. And there's no need to smash a vase while cutting a man's throat.« Viserys says, taking a step aside, to evade a bloody corpse dropping to the floor beside him, his mouth curling in distaste.

»I'll make haste to let them know, before more invaluable items close to your heart get thoughtlessly destroyed.« Drogo answers, cutting a man's throat.

»You slowly start to sound almost civilized.« Viserys wipes a splatter of blood from his face.

****

"We meet again sooner than expected." Viserys enters the room, cheerfully, through the door the Dothraki just broke down. The Thirteen are huddled inside. Looking like sheep, he thinks amused.

"Lord Targaryen...Prince...We..."

"You? You. Should have listened to me." Viserys takes a step towards them. "But you didn't." He sighs, regretfully. Then his gaze wanders over the rows. "Daxos, my old pal. Don't stand there in the back all shy."

Drogo pushes past him. Viserys grabs his wrist.

"Don't make it too fast."

"I don't intend to." Drogo's eyes are dark with something that calls for blood and only with blood will be sated.

Viserys let's go of his wrist and settles comfortably into one of the elaborately crafted chairs.

 

Viserys turns around to the Thirteen (more precisely the Twelve now), after Drogo is finished.

"Do you see him? He's a savage. A killer. You think he's satisfied now? No, he hasn't even started. He'd rip your limbs from your fat bodies and roast them for dinner, if I tell him to. And I don't even have to tell him. All I'd have to do is turn around and leave this room just now."

The remaining twelve sink to their knees and start wailing, begging him for mercy.

"Oh, no, no. I'm not going to leave. Did I have you scared for a moment? But take a look from the balcony, would you?"

Outside they see the Pureborn lined up on the walls of the city.

"Kill them." 

Drogo gives the sign to his men down there. They start cutting each Pureborn's throat and hang their bodies from the walls.

Viserys turns back his audience.

"You see, this man," he mentions to Drogo, "is dangerous. But I am," he chuckles, "I am, something entirely different. I don't care about even one of you. I'd kill every single one of you without a second thought. And I never forget. These men out there? They offended me. They thought themselves untouchable and now they're dead. The Undying? I can inform you, that they have successfully mastered the step of actually dying, now. And you..." Viserys pauses there for momentum. "We need someone to govern the city once we've left, that's right. But I don't think we need so many." He turns to Drogo again. "Kill six of them, I don't care which."

The remaining six men are shaking like leafs, having lost anything resembling composure or dignity.

"You will govern this city in my name and to my liking. And don't think you can just close your gates once I've left. You don't know how my men got in the first time, but I assure you they can get in that way any time they want. If the next time I come here, I enter through the gates, you will be rewarded. If you make me come in here any other way, you will experience the full potential of my imagination. You are now sworn to the house of Targaryen. Congratulations, my lords."

****

Viserys has his sister in a chair on the balcony, where she'd oversee the city, if she had her eyes open. In the distance you can still see the house of the Undying burning brightly. His dragons circle over it, howling with joy, like vultures over a giant stone carcass.

"Seems I just won my first city, little sister."

****

"Move over."

»What are you doing here?«

"I'm sleeping here."

Drogo moves to the side without further question, when Viserys settles beside him, but seems almost afraid to touch him.

»You don't have to, you know. It won't change anything.«

»I know that.« Viserys answers, sounding to his own surprise sincere instead of sarcastic. "I appreciate your friendship and loyality."

»You don't seem to say this very often, do you?«

»I say it whenever it's apppropriate.« Viserys answers, his hands brushing through the, now falling openly, hair of Drogo.

Now is probably not yet the moment to ask Drogo about his feelings. He leans over Drogo, hands on the mattress on either side of his head.

»Are you coming with me, all of the way?«

"All of the way."

****

The slave girl comes running in without knocking.

»The Khaleesi woke up!«

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, mean cliffhanger. But I'll tell you something even meaner. Originally the story was intended as a two chapter fic, that was supposed to end with this cliffhanger.^^  
> But don't worry, it's going to be continued. The next part will feature the first half of season three, this time with an actually conscious Danaerys.


End file.
